


Loved, Loved, Lost

by Thighkyuu



Category: IkeRev - Fandom, Ikemen Revolution - Fandom
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 05:07:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16886184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighkyuu/pseuds/Thighkyuu
Summary: Just a lil thing based off of Malibu Nights and Hurts Like Hell





	Loved, Loved, Lost

    You were his everything. You kept him sane, kept him grounded. You brought out the best in him, always. You could match his quick wit and sharp tongue, could bring him down a notch when he got to be too much. He had always thought that you deserved better than him, but he’d hoped that you’d be his forever. He loved you so, so incredibly much that he didn’t see what came next until it slapped him in the face.

    He had been blindsided when you’d approached him, not meeting his eyes, and said you thought the two of you should break up. He’d only stared at you, dumbfounded, for a moment, before the walls he’d worked so hard to take down for you rebuilt themselves in seconds and he closed off every emotion he had. He distinctly remembered giving you only a curt “fine, then” before turning and walking away. He’d heard you say his name, but he was already gone, moving briskly away from you. He hadn’t wanted the explanation, though now he would kill for it.

    What had he done wrong? He had to have done something wrong for you to decide you didn’t want to be with him, he just couldn’t figure out what that something was. Maybe he’d been too cold, or too snarky, or maybe he didn’t spend as much time with you as you liked. Had he disappointed you sexually? Emotionally? He wasn’t sure, and he was kicking himself for not letting you explain. It was too late now, the time to ask had long past and so he just let himself wonder.

    He was getting, he knew. He was drinking amounts that rivaled the Seven of Hearts, letting his body give up. He laid awake at night and let his thoughts destroy him until he finally roused himself and went walking around the Central Quarter. He was looking for something, anything, to distract him from the memories. From the fact that he could still feel your lips on his, still smell you in his sheets, still feel your body under his.

    He knew he had no business still being hurt over you. In fact, he had time to get over you. So much extra time. But here he was, still getting worse. Once the fire that the two of you had been burned out, everything had gone dark and he’d gotten lost. He found himself chasing the feeling you stirred inside him, doing whatever it took to feel anything even remotely close to the way you made him feel. He knew he would never find it, but he kept trying anyway.

    He’d never had to deal with a broken heart, not one like this, and he refused to let anyone talk to him about it. He could get over you on his own. He could make it another night. He could.

    He could, he could, he could.

    He’d loved, and loved, and then lost you, and he wasn’t sure what to do with his broken heart. He wasn’t sure he’d ever know.


End file.
